


Soundbytes (or behind the scenes as Victor and Yuuri break the news)

by espritneo



Series: Soundbytes [1]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anxiety Attacks, Domestic Fluff, Dorks in Love, M/M, Marriage, Post-Canon, Romance, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, choreographer!victor, coach!victor, it makes no sense but give it a shot, pair skating but individually, pragmatic yuuri, professionalskater!victor, victor and yuuri skating the same programs because they can, victor has no chill, victor is best husband, yuuri is beautiful when he skates, yuuri is japan's treasure
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-04
Updated: 2017-01-04
Packaged: 2018-09-14 18:42:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9198248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/espritneo/pseuds/espritneo
Summary: Rewind to Episode 9, where a "two-week break" essentially gave this person enough time to ask: what does Victor really want, how can Yuuri get what he wants (i.e. skating and Victor forever), and can it happen in a realistic way? And this person realized that yes, it would take a lot of hard work and sacrifices, but for these two, only separation is the true sacrifice.OrAfter Barcelona, Victor and Yuri lay the groundwork for an amazing season skating together, even though they compete in different tiers.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Writing this took all of december; the idea started somewhere between episode 9 and 10 and honestly I never got the impression that Victor wanted to stop skating. He just happened to want Yuuri more and he wanted more from his own skating. So with the series still to end, I wrote a bunch of soundbytes that turned into this behind-the-scenes story. I had the itch to give them this possible future and the more I looked into it, the more realistic it became. I knew the real ending would Joss this story so I never considered it as more than a headcanon, but I was pleasantly surprised to find how similar the two were. 
> 
> I'd love to write more and I hope I do. I don't have many ideas right now and stories that aren't phenomenal don't travel far, so I'm not holding my breath. If you have ideas, feel free to drop them in comments or come drop an ask on tumblr [here](http://espritneo.tumblr.com). I check it regularly!
> 
> If you read and start to wonder, the pieces I used were the last 2:30 of Mozart's Serenade for Winds III. Adagio for the short program and the last 4:40 of Brahm's Piano Concert no. 1 in D Minor III. Rondo for the long/free.

**Soundbytes (or behind the scenes as Victor and Yuuri break the news)**

With us now are Victor Nikiforov, 5-time gold medalist, and his husband, Yūri Katsuki, winner of last year’s Grand Prix Final and silver medalist at the World Championship. This pair has been hyping up the figure skating world with a whirlwind of major events. Fresh from the Grand Prix, Katsuki dominated the Japanese Figure Skating Championship with a forty point lead. Shortly after, Phichit Chulanont released media coverage of the couple’s wedding on SNS.

Katsuki continued his winning streak into February at Four Continents and placed second to Jean-Jacques Leroy at the World Championships. In late March, Nikiforov announced his retirement from eligible figure skating to focus on Katsuki and invitational competitions. Most recently, Katsuki and Nikiforov independently announced the same theme for their respective seasons. Here are soundbytes from our interview:

**\----------------------------------------------------------------------**

**Nikiforov: “I’m certain this isn’t the direction the world expected our futures to take. I was a rather abysmal coach during my first year and yet here I am, continuing as such, and expanding my skillset by choreographing programs for more skaters.”**

_Barcelona, Spain, ISU Grand Prix Final Banquet_

“My apology.” A large, rough set of fingers set down two fingers of vodka. Yakov braced and received Victor’s enthusiastic cheer and hug. He sat down. “I did not believe it, but you did know what you were doing.”

“Well, you’re not quite wrong.” Victor said dryly. “Being a coach is complicated. Some days, I’d rather be the one that gets to be selfish.”

The two men toasted and drank til their glasses were empty. “Vkusno!” Victor smacked his lips in satisfaction. “You wouldn’t believe how impossible it is to find good vodka.”

Yakov scoffed, unsurprised, and set down two more shots. “Here is congratulations. Your choreography was excellent, Vitya. Two programs tailed for for two very different athletes. High in artistry and in technical elements and open to further refinement? You’ll be getting many offers in the spring.”

 _I’m proud of you, Vitya,_ was what Victor heard.

“Ah, I hope so.” Victor smiled. “Choreography has become my favorite part. Will I hear from you as well?”

“Yes. We’ll discuss it after our Nationals. I’m confident you’ll be an asset for Georgi. Yuri will be difficult; if his body begins to change, it may be better for us to do his choreography until he fully matures.” Yakov lifted a shoulder. “If not, then yes. Do his long program. Also, think about the ladies. Don’t stick to the men’s division.”

 _Think about your future, Vitya,_ Victor read between the lines.

Abruptly, Victor leaned over and gave his mentor a hug. “Thank you for taking care of me, Yakov. Even if I’m too big now.”

“Tch.” But the older man’s shoulders relaxed and took his weight. “You’re Katsuki’s problem now, Vitya. I feel sorry for him.”

“Yakov you’re so mean!”

**\----------------------------------------------------------------------**

**Nikiforov: “This off-season, Yūri and the JSF have a lot of shows planned, local and international. Myself, I’ll be traveling to Switzerland and Thailand to lay out commissioned choreography.”**

_Russia, March, pre-interview_

“Nggh,” Yūri stretched like a lunatic in the cramped plane aisle, too centered on the glorious burn and pop to mind that he was holding back a crowd. “I’m going to hate this part of our life. I can already feel it.” He let Victor load him down with his carry on and started doing reps with the duffel bag. Victor just flashed a smile elsewhere and ducked them both out with his usual efficiency.

Passing through customs with a native speaker was a definite improvement to his experience at Sochi last year. His Russian comprehension was good enough for casual conversation, but his reading and speaking ability was pretty dismal.

He leaned his weight on Victor’s brown overcoat and watched his husband be alert for their luggage. He got the impression that Victor had never been known for his reliability, but hmm, Victor took such good care of him. “Where do we go from here?” He said softly, even though he already knew.

“Georgi will be waiting at arrivals.” Victor murmured – they both knew he knew and that Victor was speaking to his anxiety - and shifted to pull him closer. “They’ve set us up in a room with a queen.” Here, Victor sniffed and Yūri rolled his eyes. “He’ll also have your permissions for ice time for the week. We’ll keep him around for a coffee, but I think I’d like to turn in even though it’s daylight.”

Yūri hummed in agreement. “We’ll cash in on honeymoon hours.” It was an inside joke, yet half-serious, given their devotion to their sport. It was a result of many careful discussions over morning coffee and quiet nights since Barcelona, a mutual agreement that such sacrifices were little import to maintain their lifestyle. To be together always. “Let’s skip coffee and see if he wants to go for drinks later tonight.”

Victor smothered him in a hard embrace and darted away to retrieve their suitcases. “I’m turning you into a lush, Yūri!”

\---

Thanks to their half day “nap”, drinking until 3am didn’t make a dent on their early morning constitution. Georgi, saved by his Russian heritage, doesn’t blink when he’s called on first to work on his new program.

Yuri, on the other hand, ended up blanketing his immediate vicinity with undeniable impatience and jealousy. _I don’t ever remember being that young_ , Yūri marveled to himself. He doesn’t get to chat with the younger skater, though. He had his own marching orders and even though he’s busy, his coach is still nearby and probably watching. He has a spiral sequence to practice and the rink is mostly empty.

He made one circuit, his mind already bringing up the start of his short program, the third movement of Mozart's Serenade for Winds. The winds, rich and round, play alternating triplets to herald the arrival of the principal instrument. And then, like the soaring oboe, Yūri extended his torso into the spiral. His right hand rose with the return of the orchestra and together - his skates the deep, grounding bassoon, the clarinet in the lines of his form, steady and clean in contrast to the winding pattern of edging, the oboe in the tilt of his fingers, his chin – all the pieces of him etched their music onto the ice.

Inadvertently, the strength and clarity of his figure called to the younger Yuri and he watched the Japanese skater. He noted how well the sequence suited Yūri’s ingrained balletic form and the vision of moving forward. He - _they_ , really - had been anxiously monitoring him for signs of change, to see if this year would be the difficult time he’d battle and be betrayed by sudden fits of change in his own body. He underwent a physical daily instead of weekly and only knowing this was a necessity tempered his urge to lash out at the heightened invasion of privacy.

The consensus between the bloodwork and absence of drastic growth spurts pointed towards more time. Yakov was comfortable commissioning Victor for a long program befitting an experienced prima ballerina. With luck, he would be in better shape than this season and overshadow Yūri’s quiet musicality.

\----

The week passed by quickly.

Georgi and Yuri didn’t really need Victor after five days, and he was also able to slip in some practice. Yakov was there on the sixth day and Victor wasn’t shy about stealing his mentor’s time ( _unpaid!_ ) for a few minutes of critique. Some bits were expected. Yakov had plenty to say about his arm placement during his spins. That he preferred Yūri’s version, with jumps instead of footwork marking changes in song tempo. Unexpectedly, he doesn’t comment on the spiral in the short and the layback spin within the first thirty seconds of Victor’s long program. Lilia, however, saw him practice on the seventh day and spent fifteen minutes lecturing him on shifting his weight to fix the abysmal arch of his back.

Later that night, Minako was on the line after having spoken with Yūri and he found his weekly ballet practice increased until he could catch and maintain the pose.

Not for the first time – really, he should be used to this by now, this new life of his with all these open doors – his heart swelled with excitement and he had to wonder if he was going to cry.

\---

On the fourth day, Yūri, ever pragmatic, started laying out their off-season responsibilities over lunch. He had a summer of show skating as Japan’s national and international champion. Victor, although he’s half finished with this season’s choreography commissions, still had assignments that are a potential conflict. 

“Why do you two have to be so gross and stupid?” Yuri slouched over his tray and tried not to give the older skaters the evil eye. “Your lives would be way easier if you didn’t insist on traveling together all the time.”

Yūri just grinned ruefully; it wasn’t the first time someone pointed it out. Victor was the one to react dramatically and smush his resisting husband’s face into his own breast. “That’s cruel, Yura! Think about my poor Yūri. What would he do without me?”

“Train, most likely.” Yūri spoke into Victor’s thermal. “I am an athlete, you know. There’s conditioning, ballet, off-ice practice. Imagine how much more work I could squeeze in if I had a week to myself.” He was abruptly released and he grinned at Victor’s unhappy face. “Just kidding, Vicchan.” He cooed, wrapping himself around the Russian.

Yuri vibrated with the urge to make unholy gagging sounds. Just for that, Yūri cuddled a few seconds longer than absolutely necessary before releasing Victor with a kiss to the cheek.

 “Okay,” He turned his attention to the sheets before him. “Let’s negotiate with them. I’ll take the shows on third and thirteenth in June if they’ll let us skip the eighth. With the gap, it should be plenty of time to travel to Switzerland and back.”

“Humm,” Victor propped his chin on Yūri’s shoulder agreeably. “Six weeks out will Chris time to pick his piece and send it to me.”

“I hope he picks something a little more mellow this year,” Yūri sounded apologetic, but shuddered all the same. “I’m not looking forward to listening to a weird sex song for weeks on end while you work out the program.”

Victor snickered, finding this adorable and really funny, and put on his sexiest voice. “Why not, Yūri?” He said breathily. Yūri reflexively thumped him on the thigh and shivered under his lips. “Don’t you think we could put it to good use?”

Being knocked on his ass wasn’t enough to erase his beaming smile as he watched both Yuris shriek, and as one, stand and flee the cafeteria.

\---

“Yura’s in a good mood,” Yūri commented on the way back to the hotel. Victor hummed to show he heard him, but otherwise, kept his eyes out for a decent wine bar. “He’s never been so civil with me in public.”

“It’s Otabek,” Victor absently murmured. “AH!” He tugged Yūri along using their clasped hands, adding, “Mira said _Beka_ told Yūri he was mature for his age.”

**\----------------------------------------------------------------------**

**Nikiforov: “I’ve already received invitations to the Japan Open in October and Medal Winners Open in January. There aren’t many professional competitions this season, but that will help me balance my ongoing responsibilities.”**

_Japan, March, pre-interview_

Yūri yawned and rolled over, hand automatically reaching out for his phone. He pulled it close enough to read the headlines on the dimmed screen.

_5-time gold medalist Victor Nikiforov retires from eligible skating, leaves professional competition on the table_

He tapped some more. News of Victor, Phichit posting more candid married couple photos and emojis in reaction, post World Championship interviews with himself, JJ, and Christophe, discussion of current international standings, highlight on Yura’s accomplishments, speculation on Victor’s future plans.

The future. What would Victor do to push himself? Yūri dropped the device and rolled onto his back, limbs splayed, thinking. When Victor made the announcement, they’d planned the wording to entice the professional skating organizations into sending feelers his way. He knew, and Barcelona had only firmed that belief, that the last thing Victor actually wanted to do was get off the ice. He had been chafing at the restrictions in competitive skating and the dual expectations: _fit the norm_ and _surprise us_. The audience and the judges were remarkably contradictory and driven by appearances and ideologies. He’d hit the limit of the narrow gray area that satisfied both criteria and despite the coolness of his public persona, Victor was actually a disciple of flair and creativity. His needs as an artist had grown incompatible with his efforts to get a positive reaction out of the audience. Yūri hoped that professional competitions, really more athletic art than artistic athleticism, would hit the spot.

Well, first, they had to invite him.

**\----------------------------------------------------------------------**

**Nikiforov: “The theme will be rebirth and we have prepared programs using the same music. The previous season was a time of transition for both Yūri and myself and we both consider ourselves to be very different men. This season, we’ll share that through our skating.”**

_Spain, December, post-banquet_

Waking up with Victor was new.

No, waking up first was new.

Yūri opened one eye to peer behind him, but all he could see was the edge of his own face. The curtains were drawn and only a hint of light touched the floor. He was either awake too early or it promised to be a cloudy, Barcelona day.

Victor was draped over his back, holding him close even dead to the world. Yūri was able to lie still and count the slight, even puffs on the back of his neck, barely noticeable. Victor was a quiet sleeper, often clingy and he now slept terribly alone; but when he slept well, he was so still, he blended into the bedding.

He slowly wiggled his right hand into his line of sight. The engagement ring was right where it should be, on his fourth finger, gold winking when he flexed his fingers towards the light.

“Yūri?” The arms around him tightened as Victor stretched. Then, he relaxed and pulled his legs closer. “Morning?”

“Mm. We’ll be married.” Yūri added, conversationally. He could feel Victor’s smile grow against his shoulder. The older man made a sound of agreement.

“Then what will we do after?”

“Have katsudon.”

Yūri laughed. “Yes, but I meant, seriously.” He should lead, he supposed. “I’ll win Nationals.”

“Naturally. And Four Continents. Worlds.” Victor reached out and ticked off each competition on Yūri’s outstretched hand. He reached the ring finger. “I’ll withdraw from eligible skating.”

“I’d like to keep skating together.” Yūri said wistfully.

“Of course. I expect to be invited to professional competitions.” Yūri watched pale fingers wrap around his and start rotating the ring. “We should have matching programs,” he mused. “For you, a jump-focused, highly technical one for the next Grand Prix, and whatever I want for me.” His voice rose in excitement. “Yūri! There are sequences Yakov hasn’t let me include since I entered senior men’s. Yakov is such a worrywart, and this is why we never agree on skating anymore, and he never listened to me and now he has all these wrinkles. I’ve also always wanted to do a jump-less program. Or a novel jump combination.”

Yūri finally rolled them over until he was straddling Victor’s thighs. Their hands immediately found each other’s and he settled them on Victor’s supine form. “I’ll skate for you and win the Grand Prix again next year.”

“I like that idea. Now, what do you think? Can we be a matching set? You in amateur, myself in pro? There are certain advantages. For one, it’ll be easier than choregraphing four unique programs. Two, I want to skate with you.”

Yūri huffed out a laugh, not really understanding his sudden urge to cry. A pair skate, performed individually, but for each other. “You’re such a romantic, I can’t believe no one knew this about you.”

He remembered he’d wanted to retire. But last night, that quad flip…

In May, he considered himself nearing his peak, but objectively, the progress he and Victor made in the past eight months told a different story: a skater that mastered two quads in one season and unveiled a new performance style.

He tried to imagine coming season. He and Victor, mastering the same moves, soaking in the same music, bonding through the similarities, using the differences to say ‘ _look only at me_ ’. He thought about the Cup of China, Rostelecom, here – Barcelona – but having skated for Victor the _entire_ time, unreservedly.

He smiled widely, “I want to skate with you, too.”

**\----------------------------------------------------------------------**

**Katsuki: “I think the concept of producing two programs to the same music is unique enough that we are considering producing media for purchase after the season. Please look forward to watching our skating side by side.”**

_Japan, January-February, pre-interview_

Their early morning conversation seemed to breathe new life into Victor.

Downtime in Hasetsu was business as usual with Four Continents just around the corner. Victor decided it would be easier to use classical music. Commissioning original songs took time and they risked going too slowly should they disagree at any point. Pre-existing music, on the other hand, gave them a library they had both listened to at one point in their lives. Yūri gave him all of his own digital music and archived CDs and Victor largely sorted through it himself.

Yūri won the Four Continents, Phichit an uncomfortably close second. Selfies of very dubious nature ended up on the internet. Thankfully, no pants were removed at any point. Celestino took Victor aside during the gala and commissioned a short program for Phichit’s upcoming season.  

The fact that he was being actively sought suggested that he was well on his way to being a high-demand choreographer. Victor suspected coaches were still feeling him out and this was equally a trial run of his reliability and longevity.  

Truthfully, he’d prefer to minimize this type of work until Yūri retired. They had done the math. They would continue to live in Yu-topia and train primarily out of Hasetsu Ice Castle. So long as he reached his quota of commissions every year and he and Yūri continued to do well in competitions, they could avoid using the money he earned from Russia to support their skating. And Victor could focus on training Yūri instead of touring.

\---

“Wake up, Yūri, it’s time for our run.” A voice called and pulled him from the bottomless pit of sleep and for once, Yūri was eager to open his eyes, if only to escape this feeling of dread.

It was still dark outside and Victor was curled up behind him, pleased as ever to greet him again, as if their time in slumber had been too much to bear. But Yūri wordlessly pushed himself out of bed and made for the bathroom. He could already feel dinner with a heavy side of nerves bubbling ominously in his chest.

As he retched into the toilet, Yūri couldn’t even be bothered to feel badly about it. He was angry – with himself, with his body – yesterday had been a great day. They played their new music and skated figures  on the ice, intermittently shouting each other’s name and showing off an idea in sync with the melody. A two minute, thirty second song played for hours with one or the other constantly rewinding to imitate, then expand.

Yesterday was Victor happy and serious, ice in motion, sharing his first love with his second.

Yesterday was Yūri, with easy confidence, in tune with the music and spontaneously surprising, basking in Victor’s delighted smiles.

Yesterday was Victor, happy and silly, bored with work, gyrating in time to Brahms and making his sides ache.

He could feel angry while hugging porcelain. He wanted to feel that memory this morning, not this awful depression that switched on without his permission.

Victor pressed a glass of water and his prescription into his palm and let him lean closer while holding a cold compress to the back of his neck. They wordlessly  dressed and go on a 5 km run, Yūri leading, pace terrible with his fits of angry sprinting and recovery jogging.

They don’t go to the rink today. Instead, Victor made him shower and hauled him back into bed, reclined against himself and a mound of pillows. They shared a set of earbuds and listened to their music on repeat, Yūri eyes closed and resting, Victor with a notepad on one knee, working.

Although he couldn’t feel his own joy at times, he could borrow a bit from Victor and from yesterday’s Yūri, and somehow make it through.

**\----------------------------------------------------------------------**

**Nikiforov: “Of course, we will have variations unique to our competition requirements. I’ve enjoyed the challenge of tailoring Yūri’s to be technically challenging without losing the artistry. And for myself, it’s a pleasure to choreograph a program with fewer restrictions. I’m able to introduce elements I couldn’t at the amateur level. I think our fans will be thrilled with the changes and we are proud to play a role in expanding viewership at both tiers.”**

_Japan, February, pre-interview_

“You want me to what?”

“A quad-triple-double, Yūri!” The impossible Russian was already doing the jumps as he chirped.

This man was ridiculous. Absurd. Insane.

“For my long program?” Hiroko’s kettle shrieked in the kitchen. “For the entire season?!”

“Yes!” Victor grabbed his hands. “You can do it. Let’s change things up!” He urged. “We’ll put it in the first minute, so you’ll be fresh. I believe in your stamina and it would go so well with the downbeats in the concerto. Don’t you want to? We’ll both do it.“

Privately, Yūri thought physics was more of a deterrent than willpower or stamina, but hey, Victor was an idiot savant when it came to skating elements and he knew Yūri’s body and limitations as well as he did his own. "Sure, I’ll do my best.”

It wouldn’t hurt to see how far they got.

Victor smacked their lips together in reward and turned, already muttering and looking for a pen. “Of course, both of our periodizations will change dramatically. We’ll need to talk to the strength coaches in Fukuoka on our next trip. Do we have enough in the budget for double the sessions in the cable and pulley harness?”

Yūri wasn’t really expected to know any of this; Victor managed both of their training schedules and athletic appointments in Fukuoka admirably. He wasn’t really looking forward to extra time in the on-ice jumping harness, though; it chafed and pinched his hip bones and being pulled along was distracting. But, if they wanted to pull off an impossible technique, they couldn’t rely on willpower there, either.

**\----------------------------------------------------------------------**

**Katsuki: “I think my future was a bit more straightforward after winning the GPF. Personally, I was ready to retire, but that competition made me realize that I’m still learning and expanding my technical skills. I’m fortunate Victor will continue to support my efforts as coach and choreographer. I have faith that his decisions will test my abilities for years to come.”**

_Japan, June, post-interview_

It’s become the core of their pre-performance ritual, Yūri supine and resting his head on Victor’s lap, hands intertwined while Victor recited his program like a bedtime story. He won’t be doing more than one quad today and instead all of his spins will be level 4s and they’ve turned the lunge into a cantilever. It’s a show, not a battle for points, and so their job is to impress and entice the audience with his beauty.

Eventually, Victor ended the monologue and they make their way to the venue from the hotel on foot. Yūri was quiet and Victor doesn’t engage him in conversation. It was his first off-season show and he was fully aware Yūri needed to be able to call all the shots. Instead, he held his husband’s hand ( _his husband!_ ) and smiled at apathetic pedestrians.

The rink grows larger in the distance and Victor belatedly realized there was an actual crowd outside. With banners and signs and Yūri’s name brightly swaying in a sea of adoration.

Before he can say anything, Yūri noticed for himself. He gripped Victor’s hand tightly in surprise and horror. _Why are there so many people?_

“Victor – “ But he’s already being tugged aside. They skirted the intersection and aim for the back entrance. Next to him, Victor was equally tense and Yūri half wished he would look back. Maybe then, he could have kept Yūri from making an even bigger mistake.

Instead, his eyes are drawn back to the crowd and his thoughts slowly peeled away and started to talk back.

 _What nice people._ Mostly women, but plenty of men and children. They cheered the moment they clapped eyes on him. _They look just like the president of the JSF did during our meeting; they must be really proud of their athletes._ He waved back. _I bet they have no idea who I really am; if they did, they’d realize this season was a fluke. In November, I popped two jumps – one was a single, how pathetic! – before all of Russia. I wonder how many of them remember my spatial awareness was so terrible at regionals, I slammed my nose into the barrier like a five-year-old._

A thought occurred to him. _Are they here_ because _they’re expecting a spectacle?_

“Victor,” Before he knew it, Yūri found himself repeating the question out loud. His husband whipped his head around and he looked absolutely flabbergasted. But Yūri frowned and the idea was gaining traction in his head. Victor had taken out all of his quads and spent all of his rehearsals talking about showing off his beauty, and Yūri hadn’t bothered to question it – the request was reasonable and Victor knew exactly what he was on about – but walking briskly down the Fukuoka streets under the summer sun, Yūri felt cold and bewildered. And slightly betrayed that maybe Victor had taken the jumps out because he didn’t believe in him –

“Yūri!” Cold hands cupped his cheeks and Yūri inhaled reflexively. He couldn’t see anything beyond the changing blue of Victor’s eyes and his lungs were burning – had he held his breath? Victor pulled him into a hug and Yūri tipped his head forward until he could feel Victor’s sternum rise and breathed in sync with the gentle movements.

Hours or minutes later, Yūri relaxed his grip on Victor’s shirt and no amount of smoothing took the heavy wrinkles out. Eventually, Victor gently caught his wrist – ring reflecting the overhead light.

They were inside the rink. Yūri blinked and looked around, realizing they were in a small, carpeted, empty room, its purpose ambigious, but its privacy clear in the muffled traffic locked behind the closed door. Victor wordlessly handed him his thermos, blue eyes watching keenly as he obediently rehydrated and blew his nose.

The corners of his eyes were scratchy, like he’d leaked a bit and now his tear ducts had dried out from overuse. The warm tea helped.

“If you’re ready,” Victor spoke quietly. “Let’s run through your first song.”

And that seemed to be the right thing to say. Yūri still looked a bit wan, but instead of hiding, he bit his lip, eyes lighting up as he took his starting position.

And if Victor stood a bit too close and used his own hands to guide Yūri’s poses more than necessary, smoothing and stroking across clothed limbs and hips, his husband was wise enough to let it happen and soaked in the Russian’s belief through his skin.

 

Coda

_December-January, Japan, pre-interview_

To no one’s surprise, Yūri turned around and won the Japanese Figure Skating Championships. (Later, media would love to quote he “used this momentum to capture gold at Four Continents and second place at the World Championships.” Privately, Yūri thought being married to the best husband alive had more to do with his good fortune.)

The changing of the year gave them an excuse to visit the shrine in the mountain and part of teaching Victor local traditions was refreshing his own memory, five years removed from time in America.

They had a small ceremony – marriage license obtained in Barcelona - some of their peers in attendance, Yūri’s family on one side, Yakov and Lilia on the other. Phichit was Yūri’s best man and SNS curator, contract signed and sealed in spit and blood. Chris was Victor’s best man and thriving in his first vacation to any Asian country.

Spring Hasetsu snow blanketed the landscape. The Katsukis recalled a freak snowfall nearly a year ago brought change to their door in the form of a handsome young man with eyes only for their Yūri. Who loved Yūri so fiercely that he was easy to love in turn. After months of give and take, with the rewards of learning each other and the disappointments of misunderstanding, neither Victor nor Yūri really needed a grand affair to mark the start of their marriage.

All they needed was this: to be on the same page, hands clasped, surrounded by loved ones and the life of winter, secure in the knowledge they would wake up together tomorrow, the _day after_ , and all days after that.

**\----------------------------------------------------------------------**

**Katsuki: “We’ll attend each other’s performances as a team. Fortunately, there are no conflicts this year, but it’s never occurred to us to skate alone.”**

**Author's Note:**

> I'm looking for artists to collaborate with to create their skating costumes. I have specific elements in mind (a collar of phoenix feathers, black, gold filigree on the pants). If there's anyone that would find this an interesting idea, please, let me know! (And if you can, pass it on!) I'm @espritneo on tumblr. Thanks!


End file.
